


The Beginning and the End

by Missgracie842



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, M/M, One Shot, Swearing, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 18:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10927923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missgracie842/pseuds/Missgracie842
Summary: As his drug scandal breaks, Hyosang thinks back to how everything started going wrong, in 2011 when he fell for Kim Seokjin.  - My take on why Hyosang left Bighit.





	The Beginning and the End

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this ever since I learned that Kidoh and Jin were good friends, and saw how much Kidoh fanboyed over Jin. I even actually did some research for this one!  
> Still, I must apologize because I don't follow Toppdogg or Iron. All I know about them I read from articles and fansites etc. Iron is a real asshole here and Hyosang has serious anger management problems, so if that upsets you, this is not the story for you!  
> Anyway, I've stayed up WAY too late finishing this, because the story bug bit me hard. I'll try and fix any typos I missed tomorrow T^T
> 
> Comments and kudos are very very much appreciated!

Hyosang stared at the title of the news article displayed on his phone. It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected it. He’d known the moment he was caught that it would end up all over the news. The bitter shock came from feeling, even now, how much power Jin still had over him. He honestly could care less about anybody else in the world knowing that he’d been dipping his toes into the world of drugs. It was’t like he was shooting up heroin. Marijuana wasn’t even illicit in loads of other countries. But somehow, somehow knowing that Jin would read this, would make that face he made when he was disappointed, would say something pitying about him to Namjoon, was unbearable. Why couldn’t Jin even allow him the mercy of being able to believe that he’d forgotten about him?

Snarling,  he picked up the package that had arrived only a few hours earlier and hurled it with all his might. It slammed into the wall, making a satisfying crash. “Fuck you Hunchul, and you Namjoon. And especially fuck you Kim Seokjin. I wish I’d never met you!”

 

* * *

 

The first time Jin Hyosang met Kim Seokjin, he already knew they were going to be friends. They were the same age down to the month, had joined BigHit within months of each other, and the other man had welcomed him into the practice room with a smile that made Hyosang think of a chipmunk. It didn’t hurt that Seokjin was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen up close. “Hi. you can call me Jin. Let’s take care of each other.” Those were Seokjin’s first words to him.

“So are you going to be part of BTS too?” Hyosang asked. He hated being judged by looks, but he was having a hard time imagining someone with Jin’s gentle face and voice throwing down  beats or B-boying. 

“Well, that’s the hope,” Jin said, shrugging his shoulders. “It might be a hopeless case though. Have you met the other trainees?”

“I’ve known Hunchul and Namjoon for awhile. We’ve done some rapping together. The others I met at the dorm this morning. You don’t live there?” He would not have failed to notice someone like Jin.

“Nah, my parents don’t live so far from here, so I stay with them.”

“Nice. I’m from Seoul too, but I’d rather.....” he was cut off as Kim Namjoon, Jung Hunchul, and two of the men he’d met that morning,  Min Yoongi and Jung Hoseok, filed into the room.

“Oh, Namjoon is here,” Jin said, patting Hyosang’s leg to direct his attention. Around them the other men were beginning their stretching routines, as Namjoon headed over to them.

“So you guys met?” Namjoon asked. “Jin-hyung, Hyosang-hyung has been dancing longer than the two of us have. We can learn a lot from him.”  Jin nodded his head towards Hyosang in acknowledgement. “And Hyosang-hyung, maybe Jin-hyung’s good looks will rub off on you.” The younger man winked an eye and Jin giggled; an unexpected, strange, and charming sound.

“No, Namjoon, this guy is really handsome. Not quite as handsome as me of course, but still,” Jin protested.

“Ok mother-fuckers,” Hunchul clapped his hands. “We’re getting started here. Let’s get through this practice so Namjoon and I can get back to the real work.”

“He means writing rap songs,” Jin whispered at Hyosang’s confused look.

“Hey, where the fuck is the baby?”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m here. My class went long,” Jungkook, who looked about ten to Hyosang, said as he rushed in the door, dropping a backpack along the wall.

“Let’s not swear around this kid,” Jin spoke up. Hyosang raised his eyebrows. Hunchul could be scary. Jin was braver than he was.

“Yeah, yeah, ok ‘Mom’. We’ll protect his virgin ears.” Hunchul rolled his eyes, casting a look at Namjoon that said ‘Can you believe this bullshit?’.

 

It had been a long day, full of new names and new faces, but as Hyosang lay in his dorm bed that night, doing his best to block out the buzzsaw that was Namjoon when he slept, it was the chipmunk smile of Kim Seokjin that floated in front of his eyes.

Later, remembering back to that first day, Hyosang could only call himself a damn fool for not seeing the way Jin’s eyes followed Namjoon through the entire practice. If he’d noticed sooner, things might have turned out differently. Might have.

 

* * *

 

“You’re getting soft on me man,” Hunchul accused, prodding Hyosang in the chest one evening as they lounged in the dorm living room.

“What do you mean?” he asked, though in all honesty, he knew. Months had passed since joining BigHit. For Hyosang, training was going well. He was seeing the fruits of his labor in increasing compliments from their dance coach, as well as from SupremeBoi on his rapping. The other thing that was going well was his relationship with Jin. Over the months, they’d become closer and closer. He’d come to consider Jin his best friend.  They spent a lot of their free time together, playing Mario, challenging each other to see who could eat various dishes the fastest (Jin always won with noodles, but Hyosang had him beat on pizza), and generally goofing off. Hyosang taught Jin as much as he could about rap, while Jin had been trying to get him interested in photography. Hyosang couldn’t deny though, that Jin’s gentle nature was rubbing off on him. Since meeting him, he’d been able to keep his temper in check  better than he ever had in his life. The other side of that of course, was that he wrote his best lyrics when he was consumed with anger.

“Ok first of all, you used to dress like me and Namjoon, but now, what are you wearing, a pink sweater?” Hyosang looked down. He’d borrowed it from Jin. He hadn’t actually meant to. It had looked so good on Jin, he’d wanted to say, “I love the way you look in that sweater.” For the first time in his life though, his mouth was being a coward. It kept distorting his words, keeping the confessions and near confessions of his growing feelings towards his friend from being voiced. “I love that sweater,” was what he’d actually said aloud. Jin being Jin, had offered it to him to borrow on the spot. Not that that was all bad. It smelled like Jin.

“It’s just a sweater man,” he defended.

“How about how you never go clubbing with me anymore?”

“So I’m taking a break. What do you want me to say?”

“And when I compare your recent  lyrics to your old ones? To mine and Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s? You’ve become a fucking milquetoast.”

“I’m experimenting with some different styles. Leave me the fuck alone,” Hyosang snarled at the jab at his lyrics. 

“Look, I know Kim fucking Seokjin gives you a boner, but you're throwing your talent down the trash trying to make this crap you think he’s going to like. He’s not even going to make it into BTS, Hyosang, and you know it.”

“No, I don’t know that,” Hyosang growled. He clenched his fists until his knuckles were white. “You’ve never even given him a chance! You don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t know him at all! And I’ll write what I fucking want to write!” He was yelling now, feeling his anger boiling up inside him. It was one of the most familiar feelings to him, but today it was  strange. He’d hardly lost his temper since coming under Jin’s calming influence.

Oh, I don’t know Kim Seokjin? Well I know something about him that you sure as hell don’t, or else you’d stop making such a goddamn fool out of yourself over him.”

Hyosang hesitated. “What do you know?”

“How about that fact that he and Namjoon are sucking face in the locker room every night after practice?”

He froze. It couldn’t be true. Namjoon? Namjoon was so different from Jin. He was more like Hunchul; tough, cocky, with lyrics full of swear words and sex. There was just no way someone so sweet and gentle would go for a guy like Namjoon. “Don’t lie to me!” he spat. 

“Aw, you really didn’t know, did you? He didn’t bother to tell his best friend he’s getting pegged by another guy?”

“Shut up!” Hyosang yelled. Hunchul started laughing. The next thing Hyosang knew, his fist was connecting with Hunchul’s face, and then they were on the floor, trading blows as they rolled, at last crashing into a small table, knocking a lamp to the ground.

“Enough.” The voice wasn’t particularly loud, but it stopped them both mid swing. Min Yoongi stood at the entrance to the living room, arms folded over his chest, expression blank. “Shape up, both of you,” he said. “You are  my hyungs, but you’re acting like five year-olds.”

Hyosang crawled to his feet. He could tell he would be sporting a bruise along his jaw the next day, at the very least. He glared at Hunchul, but kept his mouth shut in front of Yoongi as he limped out the door, escaping to the only place he could get solitude, his car.

 

“It’s not true,” he said to himself. “I would know. Jin would have told me. Hunchul was just trying to get under my skin.” He nodded, taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself. “Definitely can’t be true,” he whispered. “I’ll call him right now. I’ll ask him. He’ll laugh at me like I’m crazy.”

He pulled his phone out, and hovered his thumb over the little green phone next to Jin’s contact. His hands were shaking. Angry at himself for being a coward, he used both thumbs, on on top of the other, and pressed as hard as he could.

The phone rang. And rang. ‘This is Jin. I can’t talk because I’m probably eating. Leave a message.’

Hyosang threw the phone into the passenger seat. Then he laid his forehead down on the steering wheel and shook.  

 

* * *

 

‘So I guess I’m a fucking coward,’ he told himself the next day. He hadn’t been able to ask Jin. He’d tried. But that cowardly mouth of his wouldn’t let him. It dried up the moment he had Jin’s attention. 

Nothing seemed different about Jin. He greeted him in the morning like always, with an arm around his shoulder and that chipmunk smile. Namjoon seemed the same too. He was minding his own business as usual. There were no longing gazes or sappy sighs. ‘See?’ he reassured himself, ‘nothing.’ But from the corner of his eye he saw Hunchul watching him with a cruel smirk, and his certainty melted away. 

He was sick at himself, at his cowardice, but he had to know. He had to. And that was how he’d ended up hiding around a corner of the locker room after practice , like a disgusting worm hiding under the earth. Nothing happened for nearly fifteen minutes. Then, just as he was wondering how long he should wait, he heard the door open. There were voices, muffled at first, becoming clearer as they moved further in to the room.

“....ok?”

“Yeah, they said a day’s rest and it should be fine.” It was Namjoon’s voice. He’d bruised his ankle earlier at practice. Hyosang’s breath caught in his throat as he waited. “You know me. If I wasn’t so resilient, I’d probably be dead.” There was a giggle. Hyosang’s stomach dropped. The only person in the word with a laugh like that was Jin. “So, can I see the new photos you took?”

Photos? Hyosang thought wildly. They’re here to discuss photos? Maybe they weren’t...

“Yeah, but first...” There was a moment of silence, then a sigh, and a soft, wet noise. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day.” The hope that had spiked in Hyosang’s heart fell again.

“Me too,” Namjoon said. “Here.” There was some rustling, and the creaking of one of the benches. 

Hyosang felt his eyes sting with tears. He didn’t know why he felt so compelled, but he had to see. If he didn’t, he might somehow convince himself it wasn’t real; that he’d heard wrong somehow. He peered his head around the corner, to see Jin’s back. He was straddling Namjoon’s lap, his arms around Namjoon’s neck, his mouth on Namjoon’s mouth. Hyosang froze, unable to turn away from the scene that tore his heart. 

Namjoon lifted his head, and his eyes met Hyosang’s.  They widened for a moment and he opened his mouth, but whatever he saw in Hyosang’s face made him stop. He turned away. “Hey, Jin, I think I left my phone out in the studio. We’d better go grab it.”

Their voices faded, and Hyosang sank against the wall. His chest squeezed so tightly he thought he was having a heart attack. It took him a moment to gather himself together, and then he fled, taking the chance that Namjoon had given him, perhaps out of pity,  to escape without having to face Jin.

* * *

 

“Why him!?” he yelled, pacing back and forth in the bedroom of the one room apartment  Hunchul kept in the city as an escape. “Why not me!?”

“I don’t like it either,” Hunchul said with a bland voice, “Namjoon was my bro. Who am I gonna talk to about getting pussy now that he’s into dicks? Not that he hangs with me these days anyway.”

“Oh fuck you, Hunchul. I feel like I’m dying and all you care about is being nasty. You’re disgusting.”

Hunchul shrugged. “Sure, but I’d say Namjoon is as bad as me, and it doesn’t seem to bother your precious Jin at all. Have you heard his “Expensive Girl”? He laughed. “I just realized, here you’ve tamed yourself down for him and all along he’s liked bad boys. Shit man, it’s like you shot yourself in the balls on this one.”

Hyosang made a sound of frustration as he continued to pace. “I have not ‘tamed myself down!’”

“Well maybe if you stopped being such a pussy, he’d remember that you have a dick too. Hey, hey!” he said, holding his hands up as Hyosang balled a fist at him. “I’m here to help man. I know exactly what you need.”

 

* * *

 

“What kind of place is this?” Hyosang asked, following Hunchul down the kind of back alley that people got shanked in in movies.

“I told you. It’s a bar my friend owns. It’s lit. Here...” he rapped on a metal door that was distorted with dents and scrapes.

“This is skeezy man,” Hyosang said, looking around.

“Do what you want man. Go have a nice hot chocolate with Jin and stay in the pink sweater-borrowing friendzone forever,” Hunchul snapped. Before Hyosang could respond, the door opened, and they were ushered in to the dark,  smoke-filled bar.

* * *

 

There was an incessant buzzing in his ear that was much much louder than it had any right to be. “Uuungh” he groaned. He groped around to find the source so he could destroy it. His head throbbed as though it had been hit with a sledgehammer. ‘What happened?’ he wondered. He hadn’t had a hangover like this since his friends had gotten ahold of a bottle of tequila for him on his 17th birthday. ‘How much did I drink?’ 

“Stop buzzing!” he roared, irritation boiling over as the sound continued. At last, his hand grasped his phone. He peered at it, then swore to himself. Jin was calling.

“Hyosang? Are you okay?”Jin’s voice came over the line. Hyosang fantasized it was a balm that would soothe his aching skull. “Where are you at? Is everything okay? I’m worried!”

“Uh...” Hyosang croaked. His mouth felt like paper, and it took him a moment to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Hyung...uh, I’m...,” he looked around, realizing that he had no idea where he’d ended up. To his relief, it was Hunchul’s apartment. He was face down on the couch, one cheek pressed into its coarse fabric. He was going to have a pattern on his face from it; he could tell.

His memory at last started to work again. It was Saturday. Saturday was the day he and Jin spent their morning checking out coffeeshops around the city. At first it had been to find a favorite, but now the goal was to visit all the coffeeshops in Seoul before they became too famous to be able to show up at dives that sold 75 cent coffee in styrofoam cups without ending up splashed over trashy celebrity news magazines.

“Stars wasted fortune on Mario. Can’t even afford decent coffee.” Jin had declared their headline would be.

“How about “Dive coffeeshop becomes sensation after stars spotted. ‘Slumming it’ is new trend.” Hyosang  suggested, sending Jin into a fit of laughter. That day was one his favorite memories.

“I’m sorry, I’m okay, I’m just, I don’t feel well.” He was about to add in a little half lie about being sick, when he recalled that the whole reason last night had happened in the first place. “I went out drinking with Hunchul-hyung last night and got kinda wasted. My head’s killing me right now.” 

“Oh...,” Jin answered. “Okay. Feel better. Hey, we’re still on for Mario tomorrow, right? I got a new controller.”

“Yeah, yeah. Count on it.” Hyosang groaned again as he hung up. What had even happened last night? It hurt just to think, but some memories were starting to emerge from the otherwise blank space in his mind. Lots of booze. Yes, that was definite. Music so loud he couldn’t think. And there had been women, right? He may have made out with one of them. Or with maybe a few of them. It was fuzzy.

He dragged himself to his feet, pausing for a moment to sway as his head swam. Then he shuffled into the bathroom to relieve his bladder. Another memory surfaced as he washed his hands. This one made him uneasy. 

* * *

 

They’d already been drinking for a few hours when Hunchul beckoned him to a tiny table in the far corner of the bar. There were a couple of other guys sitting around it, whom Hunchul introduced as ‘friends’.

“Just two,” Hunchul said. He clapped Hyosang on the back. “I’m easing my dongseng in.” One of the men grinned, and slid two loosely rolled cigarettes across the table.

“On the house then. Keep doing the good work,” he said to Hunchul.

“What is this?” Hyosang hissed in Hunchul’s ear.

“Relax. It’s just weed.”

“What!?” Hyosang’s yell was drowned out by the music. “No, man!”

“It’s not fucking cocaine, stop being a pussy,” Hunchul rolled his eyes. “It’s safe. It’s perfectly legal in loads of places.”

“That’s not the point!” Hyosang said. “Stuff like this could destroy our careers. And we could go to jail.”

Hunchul shrugged, pulling a lighter from his pocket and lighting one of the cigarettes.

“Like I said, just relax. Everyone here is tight. No one’s going to know unless _you_ tell them.”

Hyosang shook his head as Hunchul offered up the other cigarette. He retreated to the opposite corner and spent the rest of the night downing soju, and trying to ignore the knowledge that Hunchul and his friends must be laughing at him.

* * *

 

‘I can’t believe Hunchul would risk us all like that,’ he thought. ‘And I can’t believe he’d let me get that wasted.’  There was the old familiar feeling of rage welling up inside him. ‘Fuck him.’ He picked up a shoe from the entrance way and hurled it against Hunchul’s closed bedroom door.  ‘And fuck Kim Namjoon. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t even be in this situation.’ He hurled another shoe, now too angry to care that he was in someone else’s apartment. ‘And fuck Jin too. He really wants to be with sleaze like that? I give him everything and he chooses mister “I can help you slide those panties off”!?’

He clenched his fists, and found himself shoving his way into Hunchul’s bedroom, ready to pound someone’s face in. The door swung open, revealing an empty room. Deflating, Hyosang sank onto the bed and covered his face with his hands.

* * *

 

 

“This new controller is sick,” Hyosang said, fingers flying over the buttons and knobs as he navigated Mario across the screen.

“I know, right!?” Jin clapped his hands. “If I get rich I’m going to replace all my controllers with these ones.”

“Ok, whoever gets rich first buys the other one the best controller on the market,” Hyosang said. The two were sprawled out in Jin’s parents’ living room, playing through Jin’s collection of Mario games and eating pizza like a couple of teenagers.

“We should get rich at the same time right? If BTS does well.” Jin answered. “But deal. We can buy them for each other.”

The words made Hyosang bite his tongue. He remembered what Hunchul had said about Jin not being able to make it into BTS. Despite how he’d defended Jin then, he couldn’t deny it might be true. When BTS debuted with him but not Jin, it would mean he’d hardly be able to spend any time with him anymore. His chest squeezed at the idea of not being able to see Jin every day. He wondered how easily swayed Bang Shihyuk might be. Or maybe Jin could be one of their producers or managers. He smiled at the idea. Jin with him all the time, and no need to share him with the world.

“Ah shit, I died,” he said, as Mario disappeared off a cliff.

“You stopped paying attention!”

“Well you were distracting me with your face over there. Too pretty. It blinded me.”

“I’ll  try not to be so handsome,”Jin laughed. “But it won’t be easy.”

Hyosang laughed along with him. Being with Jin like this was so easy. This was what he loved. “Hey Jin...,” he started. He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to say. ‘I love you’? ‘I want to be with you so much, I can hardly think?’ ‘I want you to break up with Namjoon because I’ll take a thousand times better care of you than he ever could’?

“Oh, just a sec,” Jin stopped him, holding one hand up as he checked his buzzing phone with his other. He looked up, and Hyosang could swear that his cheeks were a shade redder than before. “I gotta take this call. Keep playing so I can play the next level when I get back,” he said over his shoulder as he headed down the hall and disappeared into his bedroom.

‘It’s Namjoon. He’s on the phone with Namjoon,’ a jealous voice in his head insisted. ‘He’s using up his time with you on Namjoon instead.’ A frown took over his features as he sat alone, continuing to play. By the time Jin returned ten minutes later, his hands ached from gripping the controller so tightly.

“Hey, is there any pizza left?” Jin asked, sitting down and taking the controller from Hyosang, ready to start his level.

“Uh,” Hyosang leaned over to check in the box. “Two slices of the meat lovers and one of the BBQ chicken. You want one?”

“Nah. I invited Namjoonie over, and he hasn’t eaten.”

Hyosang froze. “Namjoon is coming?” His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears.

“Yeah, he’s coming from BigHit, so it should be about ten minutes.”

“No!” Hyosang yelled, anger erupting out of him. Jin stared wide-eyed. Hyosang was very aware that Jin had never seen this side of him; the uncontrollable rage in him that had landed him in countless detentions, and even more therapists offices over the course of his life. He couldn’t stop it though. He’d spent years trying to learn to control it without success. It wasn’t going to happen now.

“Hyosang?” Jin asked, his voice uncertain.

“This is MY time with you Jin!” he yelled. “Don’t use MY time on him. He’s...What do you even like about that sleaze!?”

Jin’s face went white. “What do you mean sleaze?” he demanded. “You don’t know him at all. How could you say that? And,” here his voice turned deadly calm, “my time doesn’t belong to you. Hyosang, what is going on with you?” Now he looked concerned.

“Nothing, nothing. Look, I need to go. Enjoy your time with Namjoon.” He grabbed his car keys from the coffee table and slammed the door on his way out.

* * *

 

 

**‘I’m sorry, I know I haven’t been spending as much time with you as I should recently. You know, Namjoon is a good guy. I think you could be really good friends if you got to know him. Text or call me? I don’t want us to be fighting.’**

The text from Jin came half an hour later. Hyosang had managed to calm his anger enough to feel ashamed of himself, but knowing the Namjoon was there with Jin, and that they’d probably talked about him, pissed him off all over again.

‘Be friends?’ he thought. ‘I’d rather shoot myself.’  

* * *

 

“So,” Jin started, looking down at his crossed legs as he sat on the bed. Hyosang sat in Jin’s desk chair. It was Thursday evening, and the first time they’d hung out alone since he’d stormed out. Hyosang had hardly been able to meet his eyes at practice, so when Jin had invited him over, he’d been flooded with relief. Now, sitting in the thick silence, he wondered if that relief had been premature.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Hyosang said. “I’m sorry I slammed your door.”

Jin looked up at him. He was wearing that damn pink sweater. “Ok. Thank you. I’m sorry that I made you feel neglected. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Hyosang nodded his head. He wanted to tell Jin “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I know I’m  a fuck up, but I love you so much.” Instead he said, “You’re mine too. But...I guess I just don’t understand about Namjoon.”

Jin flushed red. “Uh...about Namjoon? He’s a cool guy. I thought we’d all have fun hanging out together.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Hyosang said, his temper sparking. ‘Don’t lie to me, Jin,’ he thought. ‘I don’t deserve that.’ 

Jin opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I...um. How did you find out?” His face was cherry colored.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hyosang, I...I haven’t come out to anybody. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you might think differently about me.”

“I could never think bad things about you.” Hyosang moved to sit on the bed, putting his arm around Jin’s shoulder. “Jin,” he said again in a low voice, tracing a hand down the line of his jaw, “I was afraid to tell you too.” At this Jin lifted his head, eyes wide. Hyosang continued to speak. “We were both silly I guess, but now we can be together.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Jin’s. It was everything. He moved forward, wanting to deepen the kiss, but Jin’s hands were on his chest, pushing him away.

“What is it?” Hyosang asked, his eyes on Jin’s soft mouth.

“Hyosang, no. I’m with Namjoon.”

“So break up with him. You can’t be serious about that guy!”

“I’m serious about him.”

Hyosang was silent for a moment, processing the words. “The ‘I can help you slide those panties off’ guy? Are you fucking kidding me!?”

“There’s a lot more to him than the lyrics of one cover song,” Jin said with a frown.

“Oh, sure. A lot more. What, am I not bad enough for you!?” In the back of his brain, he knew he was yelling. He knew he was going out of control. He knew he was scaring Jin. He wanted to stop it, but trying to hold back the anger in him was like trying to hold back a speeding train. “You need me to say disgusting shit to you and grab you!? Because I can!” He grabbed Jin’s face and forced their lips together again. 

Jin struggled against him, pushing at his face and chest. He went slack for a moment and Hyosang felt a sick surge of triumph; until Jin’s fist connected with the side of his jaw.

“Oh, ok,” he heaved, holding a hand to his injured face, glaring up at Jin through his bangs. “I see. You like it when Namjoon does it, but I fucking disgust you.”

“Namjoon’s not like that,” Jin said, tears running down his face. “Hyosang, why are you doing this? You’re my best friend!”

“Yes, You’re my best friend. You should have known that I’ve been in love with you all this time. How could you choose him over me?” His voice cracked on the words, and hot tears flooded his vision.

“Oh,” Jin breathed. “Oh, Hyosang.” Hyosang looked up for a moment, only to look away again when he saw pity in Jin’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. I love you, but...not...not the way I love Namjoon. I’m sorry.” He felt Jin move closer, and put an arm around him. He wanted to bury himself in Jin’s arms and cry, but his anger was stronger than he was. He gave Jin a hard shove, causing the other man to fall off the bed onto the floor.

“Save your fucking pity,” he snarled as he stood and stormed out.

* * *

 

“Well, I see the shit hit the fan,” Hunchul said, as moved aside to let Hyosang into his apartment. “He let you down hard, huh?”

Hyosang shook his head. He knew he was a mess. He’d spent an hour raging in his car, yelling and slamming his fists against the dashboard. The hour after that he’d spent crying so hard he’d made himself sick. Hunchul’s was the only place he could think to go.

“Why am I like this?” he asked aloud. “I fucking hate myself.”

“Yeah,” Hunchul said, sitting next to him on the couch. “Welcome to the club, kid.” He  gave Hyosang a not unfriendly nudge with his elbow. “I can see you need a little time out of your head. Come on. We’re going out.” That was the second time he visited Hunchul’s bar, and the first time he smoked marijuana.

* * *

 

The next day, Jin wasn’t at practice. Hyosang wasn’t sure he felt more guilty, or more grateful about it. He had no idea how things would be between them now, and a big part of him didn’t want to find out.

He was washing his hands in the restroom when Namjoon came up beside him to use the other sink. “You hurt Jin,” he said. Hyosang didn’t respond. He knew that. “But he wants you to know he’s ready to forgive you. He doesn’t want to lose his best friend.”

“And what about you?” Hyosang asked, keeping his eyes forward,

“It’s not about what I think. It’s between the two of you.”

Hyosang shook his head and laughed. The sound was cold. “Well I regret to inform him, that I can’t accept him as only a friend.”

“Then, here.” Namjoon passed a folded blue flier into his hand. “Stardom Entertainment is looking for rappers. I’m sure you’ll pass the audition.”

* * *

 

 

“And here I am today,” he said aloud to no one. “Without a group and about to be more well-known to the public for doing drugs than for my music. At least Hunchul is going down with me.  But you, Jin. Goddamn you. Everything’s just so fucking perfect for you.”

He walked over to retrieve the package he’d thrown. It was from Jin. He didn’t have to open it to know what was going to be inside. The fulfillment of a promise they’d made more than five years ago.

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, using it to slice through the tape, and then lifted out the item inside. He inspected the package, reading the product’s features. It was certainly impressive. A top of the line game controller.

‘I need you to forget about me, you bastard. I need you to forget about me, so that I can forget about you.’ He replaced the unopened controller into the box, went outside and dropped it into the dumpster outside his apartment.

Two am found him back outside, lifting the dumpster lid. It had already been emptied. He returned to his doorstep, sat down, and cried.


End file.
